


Memories

by SeiShonagon



Series: Support [5]
Category: Constantine (TV), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Desperation, Episode Tag: s1e03 "The Devil's Vinyl", Gen, Grief/Mourning, Historical References, Magic, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Minor Character Death, Music, Punk John, Ravenscar, Research
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 06:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3599388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeiShonagon/pseuds/SeiShonagon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John hears of an old friend's death and goes on the warpath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

Entering the mill house is like running headlong into a wall of sound. After a pause to readjust, Chas finds he can easily identify the Clash playing at full volume on the speakers downstairs, and he can just barely hear John half-singing, half-yelling along with “London Calling.”

Chas steels himself to handle whatever might have brought on the latest drunken bender. It could be anything from lingering guilt over Newcastle to the latest metaphysical nastiness John faced in Pennsylvania, to nothing at all but a Tuesday night with nothing to do but self-destruct, knowing John. Whatever it turns out to be, it will have to be confronted with all the usual supplies, so Chas stops to grab some aspirin and a glass of water – some for his own inevitable headache as well as some for John – before heading downstairs.

Where he stops short at the sight before him.

John is completely sober, and absorbed in his work. He is pulling one book after another from the shelves, flipping through them, and slamming on the table still open to the page for reference, all the while semi-singing at the top of his lungs. After calling to him three times without acknowledgement, Chas finally pulls the plug on the sound system.

John spins as if noticing Chas for the first time, then his eyes narrow, and he demands, “Put that back on.”

“John. What the Hell is going on here?” Chas isn’t about to lose the chance to get answers while normal conversation is audible in the room.

In response, John picks up a folded newspaper and tosses it at Chas, then returns to the bookshelf, swearing in frustration. Chas skims the article, and while it goes a long way to explain John’s current mood, it doesn’t explain his current activity. “What happened to Bernie?” He knows the man had been important to John. Hell, he’d been important to Chas too, though to a lesser degree.

“Question of the day, innit, mate.” John’s accent is thicker than usual, one of his tells that this is hitting him harder than he’s letting on. Chas braces himself for the inevitable.

“John.” Chas steps forward and turns John to face him, as easily as he always can. John pulls away angrily, but he continues, “This is a wild goose chase. What makes you think this isn’t just an unusually brutal Chicago crime?” He has to admit, though, it’s hard to explain who would waste this kind of brutality on a British music producer with a soft spot for orphans.

John gestures vaguely in the direction of the coffee table where they’ve laid out the map Liv left for them. “There’s a blood spot on Chicago.”

“You don’t even know if they’re connected. Chances are they have nothing to do with one another.”

“But they might be.”

“John, you know how unlikely—“

_”They might be.”_ There’s desperation now in John’s voice, and Chas can see the helpless rage in his eyes.

“So you’re really going to run in there on the off chance that this is something magical in nature?”

“Yes!” John finally shouts in his face. “Yes, I am! I owe him that much, after everything he did for me and Gaz over the years. Nobody else is going to look in this direction, mate, and you know it. Bernie could have walked into a full-blown ritual, and he would have refused to admit what he was seeing, you’ll recall. Even after me and Gary hung around him for years. Nobody else can investigate this, and I can!”

And there’s the real meat of the issue, Chas knows. There was no sign of anything coming for Bernie before now, but this, this headlong rush into the investigation, is something John can do and nobody else can. Bernie was one of the first people to point out that John thrived on that kind of unique form of need. Bernie had always thought that was why John went in for all his “occult shit,” as Bernie scornfully referred to it.

All right, he has to admit, John might also actually have a point.

And, if Chas is honest, it would be really satisfying to be able to solve this. Bernie was one of the few purely positive influences Chas has ever seen in the lives of John and his music friends. Hell, he’d almost managed to get Gary Lester to go clean, and he had managed to get John cleaned up for a while. Not that it had lasted, and John had eventually wound up on Chas’ living room sofa after a nasty breakup that sent him straight back to square one. But still, someone like that was a loss to the music world, and it would be nice to see whoever made that happen get what was coming to them.

In the time it takes Chas to come to this conclusion, John calms down and turns away, laying out another book. “He came to visit me in Ravenscar, did you know that,” he says casually, and Chas’ breath catches. John almost _never_ brings up those six months.

“I didn’t, actually, but I can’t say I’m surprised,” he says, to see if that prompts more information from John.

It does. “He came even before you did, mate. Just after Cheryl. Just to tell me he didn’t know what had happened at Newcastle, but that he was absolutely sure the… the _rumors_ were wrong, and he trusted me.” There is open grief in John’s voice now, and Chas isn’t sure if it’s for Bernie or Astra or both. “So many people, in music and in magic, thought I killed her. Astra. And Bernie never thought it for an instant. Knew me better than that, at least. Admitted I might have fucked up, made a mistake, he thought that was different than killing her, even if others didn’t understand or didn’t agree. And he just wanted to make sure I knew it. Almost everyone else at least wondered, of course.” John suddenly turns to face Chas, and his eyes are piercing. “Even you, mate, don’t deny it. Though that was Renée’s influence at least some, I’ll wager. She’s never made any secret of her verdict. Her and lots of others.” John’s voice is bitter.

“Well, you’ve never made any secret of yours either, John,” Chas feels the need to point out. He doesn’t blame John for Astra, not entirely, but it might help if John ever bothered to defend himself from any of the accusations.

John deflates some. “Maybe we’ve all got it right. Or maybe Bernie saw something none of the rest of us did. That thought keeps me going, some days,” he says quietly.

He pauses, then shakes himself. “Make yourself useful, and run to the butcher’s for some lamb’s blood, would you? Enough for a ritual bath. I have an idea, but there’s a spell I need to learn.” He bends over the books once again, and Chas complies with a roll of his eyes, knowing he won’t be able to pull John away again.

**Author's Note:**

> The character of Bernie on the show is a reference to a real man, Bernard Rhodes, who is alive and well and was the producer for the Clash and worked briefly with the Sex Pistols. He is also known for his work in social issues surrounding young men in the UK growing up without supportive families. I have drawn from his biography for his prior relationship to John and Mucous Membrane.


End file.
